As If You'll Live Forever
by allforthejust
Summary: Edmund has been getting better.  The night horrors ended long ago, he is excelling in his studies, and he and Peter are closer than ever.  The school year has just begun, and everything is going well.  But one night, all these things change.
1. PROLOGUE

This is my first fanfiction. If anyone wants to help me, be a beta reader, etc... that would be LOVELY. Chronicles of Narnia (movies and books) do not belong to me. Read and Review. Any suggestions are welcome.

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Professor Henry Radford was willing to admit that he wasn't very close to the Pevensie boys, but he could see a change in the brothers the moment the eldest walked into his classroom. Last year, the boy would enter with a posture and expression that clearly sent a message saying, "Don't talk to me – Don't speak to me." He would slam his textbook on the desk and sit down with a surly "humph". But this time, he sauntered in with a look of content the professor had only witnessed a few times in his life, and never on someone of Peter's age. The professor was at a loss for words; he could barely manage a "Good summer Pevensie?" and was even more flabbergasted when his student brightly replied "Superb! And you?" Radford only nodded and sat at his desk while the rest of his class slowly filtered in.

The professor hadn't ever had the younger Pevensie in his class, but the had heard talk about Edmund from other instructors. They said he had been downright unpleasant in years past, but last term they had noticed a profound shift in the black haired adolescent. He was no longer a sniveling brat, but a courteous, thoughtful young man. Radford half-expected, however, that Edmund would be a mixture of Peter three months ago and an arrogant bookworm. What he got was a boy with deep thoughts, who was clever, and rarely spoke, not because he deemed himself more important than others, but because he was pondering an abstract theory or imagining distant lands. Edmund received top marks in his class and possessed the uncanny ability to find more than words in his textbook or notes in a lecture. He seemed to grasp the truths of history, the people and emotions, rather than names and dates. Radford was certain: Edmund Pevensie was wise beyond his years.

The two brothers were closer than any boys he had seen before. They were clearly protective of each other and shared an unearthly amount of mutual respect for their sibling. Each boy listened patiently to the other, a highly unusual behavior for boys their age. Peter would help Edmund with math, and Edmund was able to explain economics of fifteenth-century Baghdad or the incidents leading up to the Spanish Inquisition. Professor Radford couldn't explain it, but it seemed as if the Pevensie brothers had struck a stunning equilibrium that was plausibly unstoppable. Edmund could not fully be Edmund unless the reassurance of Peter's presence was at his side. Peter consulted his younger brother before anyone else. The dynamics were apparent and astonishing; Edmund was Peter's right hand man, and Peter was the gentle, courageous liege.

Radford wasn't sure what the other students felt toward the Pevensie brothers, but he guessed that the boys were met with mixed emotions. He knew peter used to be immensely popular here at Finchley, but since he began fighting, many began drifting away from the blonde. Edmund had a few friends, but due to his reserved nature, the boy tended to avoid large groups of people. He seemed as if he had witnessed events no thirteen year old should see, yet exuded an almost intimidating amount of confidence. Radford could understand why the other boys didn't often socialize with the Pevensies. The brothers, therefore, spent the majority of their spare time together. They ate lunch and dinner together, read silently in the library together, and even arranged to be dorm mates despite their age difference. Radford was constantly amazed at the remarkable relationship between the inseparable brothers.

Both boys were involved in athletics, and their stamina was impressive to say the least. Peter was on the tract team and could run for hours at a time when given the chance. The adolescent never faltered, never once complained, and never appeared to be putting forth less than his best effort. Once or twice, Radford could have sworn Pevensie ran with his eyes closed. The younger brother, who was a member of the fencing team, was no less impressive than his older brother. The thirteen year old was more agile than many adults Radford knew and often reminded the professor of a nimble exotic cat. The boy did possess some feline qualities – he always landed on his feet. Edmund seemed to know where his opponent's foil would be, before any movement was made. His intuitiveness mirrored his keen observations in the classroom, and Radford couldn't help but wonder where the boy attained this ingenuity. To an outside observer, the brothers were the epitome of the perfect sons.

About a month into the new term, Professor Radford was preparing for his next class when an unusually haggard and tired looking Peter staggered through the doorway. Radford was shocked; he hadn't seen the boy in this condition since his fighting spree last term. The professor truly took interest in his students' well being, so it wasn't uncharacteristic for him to ask, "Is everything alright Pevensie? You aren't getting into fights anymore, are you?" Peter turned to his teacher and said, "No, I'm fine." Radford noticed that the boy's eyes, which were usually a bright blue, were now bloodshot and watery. These conditions were usually indicators of inebriation or recent crying. Since it was extremely unlikely that Peter was a drinker, the professor assumed it must have been the latter. It was almost disturbing to see Pevensie, of all people, in such a state. _It must be his brother, _Radford realized. _He's the only person who could cause Peter to cry._ The boys were so connected, only an emergency with their other half could make them so upset.

When the class Edmund was usually in began, Professor Radford looked around his classroom, skimming the thirty-or-so faces for the black-haired enigma. When he didn't find the younger Pevensie, he was instantly worried for the boy. "Where's Pevensie?" he asked the class. A small, wiry red head raised his hand and hesitantly said "Um… Professor? Edmund is in the infirmary." Radford glanced at the boy, whose name was Charlie Williams and happened to be one of Edmund's few friends. The professor said, "Why, is the boy ill?" Charlie answered, "Sort of. Apparently his brother woke up in the middle of the night, and found Edmund screaming in his sleep. Peter was terrified, so he brought Edmund to the nurse. I'm not sure of the details, but I think some sort of professional is observing him." Radford tried not to let his concern show as he said to his students, "Well, thank you Williams. Now class, turn to page three hundred and ninety-four: Medieval superstitions." Throughout the entirety of the day, the professor wrestled with the thought that there might be something psychologically wrong with the younger Pevensie. _And if it's enough to make Peter cry_, he mused, 'there something is very _wrong indeed._

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Well, that's it. Please review. LOVE YA.

ps. if you find the harry potter reference, you are awesome.

Well... That


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey. This is allforthejust. First of all, i want to give a shout out to my new beta Angel8621. Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed my last chapter. You make me feel loved. disclaimer stuff- don't own, etc.**

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After the incident with the White Witch, it wasn't unusual for Edmund to have nightmares. He would wake up in the early hours of the morning and stumble into Susan's room, which happened to be closest to Edmund's chambers. She was always able to calm him down, living up to her title of 'The Gentle'. When the four siblings were traveling, Peter would sit, talk, and even sing Narnian lullabies to his younger brother until they both drifted off to sleep. On many occasions, Lucy and Edmund would go riding for a few days. On these nights, Lucy's mere presence would prevent the night horrors from haunting the Just King's slumber. His siblings never asked Edmund about the content of the dreams, and Edmund never discussed it. Peter and Susan mutually suspected that Edmund was reliving the events leading up to the Battle of Beruna. They still didn't know the entirety of what Edmund had experienced during those dark times, and they didn't dare press the issue with the younger brother. Aslan told the Pevensies not to approach Edmund on the subject. The two decided they would talk only if Edmund brought it up. Lucy didn't even concern herself about what was in Edmund's dreams; she only wanted Edmund to heal completely.

Time passed, and in about the fifth year of the Pevensies' reign, the dreams that had plagued Edmund for so many sleepless nights ended. He flourished as a King and was known far and wide as the greatest diplomat of the era. Whenever a border dispute occurred, Edmund was called upon to ease the tensions. If the Talking Geese disagreed as to who should lead the V on their journey south in the winter or if a lion's pride was insulted, Edmund could placate the Animals and offer a solution that was pleasing to all parties involved. He had successfully created the strong alliance with Archenland and reclaimed the Narnian territory that had been ruled by corrupt regents when the Witch took control. His most difficult task was to judge the creatures that had fought for Jadis, betraying their fellow Narnians. Edmund gave each creature a fair trial and, being the Just King, conducted the proceedings with fairness unheard of at the time.

When the Pevensies were whisked back to England during the peak of their Golden Years, all four children were forced to return to the life and customs of their previous home. Luckily, they could confide in Professor Kirke, who surprised the siblings when they learned he was the same Diggory who was present at Narnia's creation. Peter took their return the worst, resorting to fights and confrontations rather than peacefully resolving his problems. Susan tried to ignore her problems, while Lucy began to cry almost every day. Edmund, seeing his siblings' sorrow, promised himself that he would remain strong for his family's sake. He decided to release his emotions silently and, therefore, took up writing in a journal daily. He would write anything from school events to the letters his sisters had sent. He was able to be the listener of the siblings because he had found a means to inner peace.

The entire Pevensie family was relieved when they saw Edmund hadn't returned to the prat he was before Narnia. When the four returned to London, Mrs. Pevensie could barely recognize her younger son, due to the dramatic behavioral change he displayed. Edmund rose to the top of his grade and ended the term with the highest marks. The adventure with Caspian was invigorating for the boy, and he looked forward for the next trip to Narnia, whenever that may be. He now enjoyed his classes and participated in discussions regularly. His favorite subject was history, by far, and he believed his professor was extremely knowledgeable, so he made sure to continue doing his best in class. In time, the results of his efforts were quite rewarding. All in all, Edmund was happy…

…But the good times he had been reveling in didn't last.

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Peter had grown accustomed to the soothing voices of nature that lulled him to sleep in Narnia. The violins of crickets and the whooshing of the cool night wind through the branches of ancient oaks composed a tranquil cadence more effective than any lullabies in England. It was difficult for the eldest Pevensie to fall asleep at Finchley, where the noises of the night were train horns and midnight hall wanderers. His younger brother expressed the same sentiments, so the young kings would talk long into the night. They discussed schoolwork, told Narnian folk tales, exchanged riddles, even talked about a girl in London that Edmund had come to fancy.

On the night everything fell apart, they had been speaking about the particular girl in question, whose name was Eileen, when Edmund blurted abruptly, "Peter, what do you think happened to Father?"

Peter seemed startled by the question, looked into Edmund's chocolate brown eyes, and then answered, saying, "I honestly don't know Ed. When we received Mum's letter in the post last Wednesday she said she hadn't received mail or a telegram from him in ages. The only news about the war we can get is from the BBC radio feeds, which doesn't tell us what we want to know."

Edmund merely sighed in response, then said, "Lucy says that we must continue to trust in Aslan, which I'm trying to do. Susan, once again, ignores the subject, as she does with any serious matter."

Peter nodded in agreement, and the younger boy continued. "I'm worried about Su, Pete. She's losing her faith, and I'm not sure how to help her."

"I know, Ed." But we can't help her at this point; our words won't do any good. It's all up to Aslan now," Peter said, trying to reassure his younger brother with the familiar Narnian mantra. "Aslan accepts us all, no matter what wrongs we've committed."

Edmund appeared at least slightly encouraged by Peter's words. _"I of all people should know that_," the younger boy mused, remembering Aslan's ultimate forgiveness. "Sleep well, Ed," the eldest Pevensie said before switching off the bedside light. "And the Lion's slumber to you," Edmund replied, using the traditional Narnian response to wish his brother pleasant dreams. With the thought of Aslan on the boys' minds and his name on their lips, the two brothers drifted into a deep sleep.

At one in the morning, Peter Pevensie was ripped from his slumber by a pained scream he hadn't heard since the early years of the Pevensies' reign. For a few moments, Peter thought he was waking up to a battle, and he instinctively reached to his bedside table for his sword Rhindon. When he looked to the bed next to him, he realized that the piercing cries were not battle calls, but a terrified Just King, screaming in his sleep. _'Dear Aslan,' _Peter thought, fearing the worst for his brother. _'They're back!' _


	3. Chapter 2

The sound was unbearable. The piercing shrieks were filled with terror, approaching the point of hysteria. Peter was shattered, remembering past misfortunes, as he rushed to his thrashing brother. When the blonde reached his sibling, he realized that tears were streaming down Edmund's face. The boy's cries were incomprehensible, and Peter was only able to catch snippets of the pleas Edmund released – " No… Not Peter… My fault…"

Peter grabbed his brother's shoulders and attempted to wake the tortured boy, hoping to remove him from the tragedies he was seeing. "Ed, wake up! It's just a dream! I'm here, you're safe!" Edmund's eyes flashed open, and he tried to catch his quickened breath. Peter pulled his brother into a loving embrace, determined to console his trembling brother. "Not again, Peter. I thought they were going to end." Edmund, who was usually the epitome of solidarity, was struggling to hold back tears. Peter couldn't sort out his overwhelming thoughts – _'What should I do?' _He looked around the room for answers. _'The nurse! He can at least get something to help him sleep.'_

Peter took hold of his brother gently, looked into Edmund's deep brown eyes, and then asked, "Can you get up?"

Edmund replied warily, "I can't be sure. You may have to help."

Peter immediately stood up and offered his arm for support. Edmund leaned against his brother and hesitantly rose to his feet, still displaying obvious signs of distress. The two boys staggered out of their dormitory and into the empty hallway. A few of the other students, with mussed up hair and bleary eyes, peered out of their rooms, looking for the source of the loud disturbance that woke them from their sleep. The sight of a crying Edmund was disturbing to say the least, and the tired bystanders were thoroughly shocked. The Pevensie brothers were always stoic and noble, qualities the boys secretly envied, and to see them so disheveled was extremely unsettling. With one steely glance from Peter, however, the observers looked away. Peter was not one to mess with, and he unquestionably demanded privacy.

When the two boys arrived at the infirmary, Peter rapped at the large oak door, anxiously trying to get the school nurse's attention. Edmund appeared to be slightly placated, although a few small teardrops lingered on his face. _'If only I knew what he was thinking. Maybe I could help him defeat his pain.'_ Peter wrestled with 'these innumerable thoughts, wishing he could see his younger brother happy and at peace. He resolved to do anything, with Aslan's help and approval, in order to help Edmund. When the nurse finally emerged, she looked surprised that neither boy was bleeding, but the presence of tears, especially on a Pevensie, rendered her speechless.

"Pevensie! What's the matter with your brother?" The nurse, a vibrant redhead in her early thirties, was surprisingly alert, considering the time of night. "There's no blood, and nothing seems broken. It's too early to be wandering around and visiting nurses."

Peter, who now seemed both desperate and flustered, was at the verge of begging, as he said, " Miss O'Malley, he's had an unusually frightening dream. He's relaxed some, but I don't think he'll be able to fall back asleep. All I could think to do is bring him to you."

"Nightmares, eh?" she replied, looking from one brother to the other. "Well then, bring him in. I'm sure I have something in here that will have him sleeping like a baby." Edmund merely nodded at the nurse's offer, so Miss O'Malley decided to take the brunette's noncommittal response as a yes.

"Don't be shy, dear. I only bite people who deserve it." she said while motioning for the brothers to enter the infirmary,

At this, the two boys the walked through the doorway, and Nurse O'Malley ushered Edmund to a bed near the room's entrance. While following him, the woman grabbed a glass bottle with a clear liquid sloshing around inside. Peter opened his mouth, about to ask the woman about the contents of the bottle. "Don't worry. It's only a mild sedative. Your brother won't be seeing any pink elephants." For the first time since he heard Edmund's screams, Peter cracked a smile. Finchley was fortunate to have such a caring nurse, despite her many eccentricities.

After a slight nudge from Peter, Edmund crawled into the bed before them. Miss O'Malley handed the younger Pevensie the mixture, and then said, "Bottoms up!" Edmund gave a final glance toward Peter, before downing the entire container without stopping to breathe. The effects of the sedative were almost instantaneous; after he finished swallowing, he handed Peter the bottle, leaned back, and said "Good night, Pete," before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

Peter looked at Miss O'Malley with some astonishment, jaw wide open at the medicine's efficiency. "Don't just stand there gawking," Miss O'Malley said. "Come here. Let's sit and have a drink. Tea? Juice? Something stronger?"

Peter responded with a quick, "Only water, please."

The nurse gave him a wink and teasingly said, "You can stick with water. I'll be having scotch." For a moment, Peter thought she had been joking about the alcohol, but when she grabbed a clear bottle containing an amber liquid from a nearby cabinet, he was forced to reconsider. Luckily, she also carried a metal pitcher of water, to Peter's great relief.

As Miss O'Malley poured water into a slightly chipped wine glass, Peter decided not to avoid the impending problem any longer. He turned to the nurse and asked, "Nurse O'Malley, what do you think is wrong with Edmund? He's had dreams before, but that was ages ago."

Miss O'Malley sighed and sat down across from Peter, considering what to say to the boy. "I can't be sure, Blondie, but I think this is beyond my medical knowledge. I can set a broken arm, but I can't deal with anything concerning the mind." Peter displayed signs of disappointment, and as Miss O'Malley, she immediately tried to ease the boy's concerns. "Now, don't fret, dearie. I can't help, but I do have a very close friend who can. I can get in touch with him if you want."

Peter was comforted to know that someone could help his brother. "That would be perfect, Miss O'Malley. Edmund's been through so much, and he deserves inner peace." The older Pevensie took a sip of his water, then stood up and pushed in his chair, saying, "Thank you for all of your help, Miss O'Malley. I trust you to take care of my brother."

Peter began to exit the infirmary, and Miss O'Malley, calling after the boy, inquired, "Where are you going, love?"

He looked back at the nurse and said, "I'm going to get some sleep. If I'm dozing off while standing, Edmund will never heal." At that, Peter Pevensie left the infirmary and closed the heavy wooden door.

In all of her life, Elizabeth O'Malley had never encountered two boys as concerned by dreams as the Pevensie brothers appeared to be. _'What hardships could Edmund have gone through to incite such night horrors? These brothers are quite a mystery.'_ The nurse took a swig of her scotch and said softly, "I won't know if they don't tell me. I might as well sit back, enjoy this lovely drink, and watch what events unfold."


	4. Chapter 3

Peter wasn't accustomed to Edmund's absence at nighttime; they had always shared a room – in England as well as in Narnia. Without the steady sound of Edmund's breath, peter was incapable of relaxation, let alone sleep. Instead, he spent the remainder of the night anxiously waiting and deep in thought. Peter vowed not to let Edmund see his fear, and the sole reason he left Edmund in Miss O'Malley's care was to make sense of the thoughts swirling in his mind.

Peter was comforted by Miss O'Malley's demeanor, one that remained positive and chipper, regardless of the circumstance. Her jovial, yet nurturing personality often reminded Peter of Penelope, the amusing holly dryad who managed the medical needs at Cair Paravel. Her contagious cheerfulness created an area of true healing. Miss O'Malley had the same refreshing effect on Finchley's infirmary. Peter truly knew that Edmund would be safe while in the care of the vibrant nurse.

In the early years of the Pevensies' rule, Peter rarely let Edmund out of his sight. He had a constant fear that his younger brother would be hurt or betrayed, just as the witch had done before. Peter often forgot the extent of Edmund's independence and capabilities as a leader. The palace tutors, General Orieus, and the girls often reminded Peter that Edmund was not only a young boy, but also a King chosen by Aslan himself. The High King tried to treat his brother as such, but never truly understood what that entailed. Eventually, Edmund approached Peter on the issue…

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_"Peter, I'm not eleven anymore. Narnia has been asked to send a delegate to Telmar and I need diplomatic experience. I should be the one to go."_

_The High King sighed and said, "I've told you ed. We have never had dealings with Telmar. I don't even think King Lune has sent an Archenlandian to Telmar in decades. I don't know the Telmarines' motives, and I don't aim on putting you in danger."_

_Edmund closed his eyes, settling his thoughts before he responded, "I've been put into danger before, Pete. I enjoy diplomacy, and I'm good at it. Ask Mr. Tumnus. I can debate, and I know when people are lying. I can do this, Peter. Aslan crowned me as the Just King, and I need to prove myself as such."_

"_It's too dangerous. You're my only brother. I can't take the risk." Peter looked more protective than Edmund had ever noticed and he was apparently pained by the thought that the Just King might come to any harm. "I've almost lost you once. I won't ever let it happen again."_

"_I know it's hard, Pete, but this is what I have to do. We have a duty to Narnia, and we need allies. Calormen is threatening to invade, and Narnia is simply too small to defeat Tashbaan's armies. Trust me Peter. Please." Edmund laid his hand on Peter's shoulder in an attempt to reassure the older king. "With Aslan behind us, our journey will be profitable, and we will be safe."_

_Peter looked up to the large stained glass portrait of the Great Lion that was the focus of attention in Cair Paravel's throne room. "I must admit you are correct, brother. You shall sail in one week's time. You are a great King, Edmund. Aslan did not falter when choosing you."_

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Since their conversation, Peter had eased his worries over Edmund considerably. He was still ferociously protective of his brother – Edmund was as well – but the younger brother was now able to excel as a King as well as a young man. Both Kings had been injured in later battles and skirmishes, and both came to each other's aid on countless occasions. They were advisors and friends, a fact that played a key role in the forging of Narnia's Golden Age.

"Oh Aslan, please grant Edmund healing and serenity, just as you freed Narnia from the Hundred Year Winter." As he feverishly prayed, Peter couldn't help but envision Edmund just after he had been rescued from Jadis' clutches. The images were fresh in Peter's mind – the scrapes and cuts on Edmund's cheeks, the emaciation that had begun to occur. The visions were terrifying to Peter still, and he couldn't even fathom the fear his brother must be experiencing. Edmund rarely voiced his emotions, so Peter wasn't sure of the extent of the Just King's suffering. "Give Miss O'Malley the gifts and graces necessary to help my brother. Let the professional she is contacting use his knowledge as best he can. Help me be brave, Aslan, in order to help my dear brother."

As the older Pevensie stared into the darkness of his dormitory, he searched for possible explanations for the night's awful events. Edmund had seemed fine before the boys had switched off their light. _'What could it possibly be? The only subject mentioned that was slightly unusual was Father. But we've talked about the war before. We've seen the newsreels. Why is this happening again?'_

That night, High King Peter the Magnificent of Narnia cried for the first time since the Pevensie's return to England. His only younger brother was hurting, and he, one of the High Kings of old, had absolutely no control. Unable to sleep, Peter sat at the cedar desk he and Edmund shared, pulled out the quill pen he only used for Narnia-related correspondence, and wrote a letter to Lucy and Susan detailing the night's happenings.

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To my dear Queens and beloved sisters,

I greet you in the name of Aslan and hope you are faring well. I write to you in worry and sorrow, for our brother's horrifying dreams have returned. He is in good hands – Miss O'Malley is an exemplary caretaker – but I remain fearful concerning Edmund's well-being. He has never been fragile, and I have no doubt that he will heal with time, yet I remain anxious. Your response to this letter will be comforting to myself, as well as to Edmund. Your words, Gentle Susan, will surely calm us, and your vibrant thoughts will certainly bring liveliness to Edmund and I.

I have struggled to determine what has sparked his trouble, and I am almost wary to ask, for I am uncertain if speaking him about the matter would violate our promise to Aslan. Your advice on this subject would be greatly appreciated. I trust that our prayers to Aslan will truly be answered.

In Aslan's name,

Your loving brother, Peter.

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TO DR. KARINSKY

I hope you are well STOP I am informing you of a student who is suffering from awful nightmares STOP I do not know how to properly treat psychological ailments STOP it would be very beneficial if you came to Finchley and observed the boy STOP

Elizabeth O'Malley

TO ELIZABETH O'MALLEY,

I will be there at seven this evening STOP

Dr. Ivan Karinsky

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When Elizabeth O'Malley received the positive response to her early morning telegram, she sent a small smile to the sleeping boy, encouraged by the good news. _'Blondie will be excited, at least,'_ she thought with a small sense of admiration. _'If only my own brothers were like that.'_

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**please, please, please review. I would like to thank my beta, my reviewers, and those who have favorited this story. Much LOVE 3. Also, with the telegram, the word STOP was used to indicate a period at the end of the sentence. I just wanted to clarify that point.**

_ ~ allforthejust_


	5. Chapter 4

_**HELLO. I am so super uber sorry that I haven't been able to upload this chapter. School is extremely annoying. Anywhoo, PLEASE review. I would like to get reviews, especially for some opinions as to what people want to see happen. I basically have all the plot issues worked out, but it would be amazing to have some advice on what to do with my oc's. opinions and reviews welcome**_

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Peter had begun to make his way to the infirmary before daybreak, hoping to be at Edmund's side before the younger Pevensie brother woke up. He hadn't slept at all since he left Edmund with Miss O'Malley, one of the few people he could possibly trust with his brother's well being. The hurried thuds of Peter's footsteps rang out in the hallways of Finchley, echoing in the morning silence. He was restless to return to his brother's side, to speak with the cheery nurse, and to discuss the dream with Edmund. Peter had questions, and he hoped Edmund could answer.

When Peter arrived at the infirmary, he first saw Miss O'Malley through the open door, near the supply cabinet and knitting. She smiled at him and waved as Peter walked towards Edmund's bed.

"He's slept like a baby since you left. You should probably be more careful. I could have slipped him a Mickey Finn in that medicine and you would have never known." She stood up, set aside her yarn, and handed Peter a stiff-backed oak chair. "Sit," she said. "I can get another chair. You look like you just took a hike through hell, Goldilocks. Make sure you get something to eat. I don't want you in a bed next to your brother because you've fainted from starvation."

"So he hasn't had another dream?" Peter asked, looking at his brother, who continued to sleep through the observers' conversation. "I really do worry about him."

Miss O'Malley patted the older brother's shoulder reassuringly and replied, saying, "He's been asleep dear. But you, Blondie, obviously have not." Peter let out a tired sigh, then nodded in exhausted agreement.

"Oh! I told you that I would contact my colleague." Peter appeared my encouraged by the turn of subject. "I sent him a telegram a few hours ago. He responded around twenty minutes ago."

"What did he say?"

"He'll be here around seven in the evening. I didn't expect him to answer so soon, but I'm not surprised. Dr. Karinsky is a very prompt and punctual man."

A familiar voice was then heard. "I hope he's prompt. I really don't want to spend any more time in this ward than I have to. Thanks for coming so early, Peter"

Edmund pushed himself up to sit against the headboard, yawning as he did so. "Thank you as well, Miss O'Malley. You've been extremely kind."

"It's no problem, love. It's why I'm here, to help lovely young men like yourself."

Miss O'Malley analyzed the two brothers' behavior and realized that the boys wanted to talk to each other alone. Both of the Pevensies were much too polite to ask her to leave, but their eyes showed that they obviously needed to discuss the night's events.

"I'll go get you two boys a delicious breakfast. I believe they are serving eggs and bacon today. I'll be back in around a half an hour. Don't have too much fun and blow up my infirmary."

"We won't, Miss O'Malley," Edmund said with a grin. Peter was amazed that Edmund could enjoy humor only hours after he had been screaming in true terror. In Peter's mind, Edmund was the most resilient of the four Pevensies and by far the most perseverant. He was often awestruck by his thirteen-year-old brother, and when he saw Edmund remaining dignified despite his circumstances, he couldn't help but feel immense respect for the boy. "We'll be perfectly tame," said the young brunette. "I'll keep a close watch on our Peter."

As Miss O'Malley left her infirmary and walked down the corridor, he fashionable shoes could be heard clicking even behind closed doors. '_What a good woman,' _Peter thought. '_Lucy would absolutely adore her._' The older Pevensie turned to Edmund and asked, "How are you feeling now?"

Edmund merely shrugged and said, "I'm not even sure. I can barely even figure out what could have sparked the dream."

"Neither can I. It's very confusing. Nobody is threatening Narnia or trying to destroy us. Why should you be having these dreams again?"

Edmund began to play with a thread hanging from the hem of the hospital sheets, a rare display of emotion creeping across his face. Peter knew this particular look and was worried by the implications: Edmund was afraid. It was obvious that the younger brunette was trying not to show his fear, and Peter knew that most people would never notice or see this side of his brother. Once again, Peter prayed to Aslan that the doctor could provide some aid to Edmund.

"Has anything strange happened recently?" Peter asked. "Anything out of the usual?"

When Edmund shook his head in disappointment, Peter sighed, then patted his younger brother's shoulder. "It'll all work out, Ed. It always does. We've faced worse things before, and Aslan has always helped us prevail. I'm positive he has sent us Miss O'Malley, and maybe he's sent us this Dr. Karinsky fellow. We must keep our faith, and he will surely guide us."

As Peter spoke these inspirational words, Edmund saw the High King of Narnia and his atmosphere of glory. The ambience was more comforting than any attempts that others could offer. Edmund truly felt safe in the presence of his brother and liege. The mention of Aslan also brought some serenity and security to Edmund, and he was truly thankful for his family and those who cared for him.

"I believe you're right, Pete. About Miss O'Malley, I mean. She's a lovely woman, and she's always been remarkably kind," said Edmund in agreement to the previous statement. "She almost seems to have a Narnian air about her, don't you think?"

Peter nodded. "She reminds me of the dryad Penelope. They've got similar personalities. If I didn't know better, I'd say they were sisters." Peter grinned as e recalled incidences during their reign. Do you remember how she would flit about the palace at times? She had such a bright attitude. Mildred the Tortoise was always irritated with her."

Edmund chuckled at the memory. "That she did. I sometimes think Mildred was just jealous of the speed that Penelope could move. Lucy was always so fond of Mildred's old stories though." Both boys laughed as they reminisced about the citizens of Narnia during their Golden Years.

The Pevensie brothers continued to joke and share recollections until Miss O'Malley returned from the cafeteria with breakfast for the two boys.

"Rise and shine, dearies. I've got food for all of us." She set a tray with two plates on Edmund's bedside table. "I have water and juice as well. I would offer you my scotch, Peter, but it's far too close to class time for that."

Edmund snickered, than gave Peter an incredulous look that seemed to say 'Is she serious?' Peter shrugged in resignation before sitting next to his brother and reaching for a piece of bacon.

"I sent a letter to the girls," the blonde stated. "I thought they should know, and maybe they can help somehow."

"That's a good idea," replied Edmund. "Hopefully this Dr. Karinsky bloke will be the good sort as well. Miss O'Malley trusts him."

"Well," Peter said optimistically. "He'll be here tonight. We'll just have to figure him out then. He seems like a rather peculiar fellow, from what Miss O'Malley has said."

"It's not like we haven't seen odd before," joked the Just King. "After camping with those silly Marshwiggles for three weeks, nothing seems nearly as out of the ordinary to me."

Peter chuckled at the memory of the rather glum and depressing bog dwellers. "I suppose you're spot on with that, Ed. But in my opinion, the vibrant pixies of Archenland were stranger. Do you remember how their chieftain would wear silver and gold motley whenever he would make court appearances? The pixie women were always flirting with the talking mice."

The atmosphere of the room was dramatically brightened since the conversation had turned to Narnia. Neither boy could remain upset after Narnian stories had been told, and the comfort of their sisters' knowledge of the situation was calming. The brothers exchanged familial banter and told anecdotes from their years before their magical journeys. Cricket games gone awry, humorous miscommunications, and innumerable pranks dominated the material of their discussion Their talk remained jovial, and they barely noticed Miss O'Malley's return to the infirmary.

"I hate to interrupt you boys, but class is about to begin. Edmund can stay and get some rest, but Peter has to return to his daily routine." Miss O'Malley stuck out her tongue, as if to suggest her extreme dislike for schoolwork. "Maybe Blondie here can get some of your assignments so you don't get too far behind or let your grades suffer. We can't let our little history prodigy fail, now can we?"

Miss O'Malley motioned for Peter to begin leaving, and as he stood, he asked, "How did you know Ed was brilliant in history?" At Peter's statement, Edmund beamed with pride.

"The faculty and staff here at Finchley are quite close. Professor Radford and I have spoken about you two boys on several occasions. He's extremely complimentary, I assure you."

Edmund looked at Peter, who was slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder. "Go on Pete," the brunette said. "I'll be fine. Miss O'Malley is an exceptionally good conversationalist.

Peter exited the infirmary with a quick wave towards the lively nurse and an "I'll be back immediately after class" for his younger brother. His mood worsened, however, as his exhaustion began to settle in.

'_Oh Aslan… What should we do?'_

_

* * *

_

As Dr. Ivan Karinsky's train rumbled across the English countryside, the doctor pondered what sort of boy he would be observing. He had recently worked with several veterans who had fought on the offensive front line forces in Germany and had listened to some truly horrific accounts of war. Needless to say, he had dealt with dreams that reflected the traumas they had seen.

Ivan Karinsky had always fancied himself as open-minded and accepting, and he tried to treat his younger patients as he would adults. Teenagers were, in his mind, much more complex than other age groups, and respect was crucial for necessary mental aid. He supposed he learned this skill awareness from his long time mentor, a brilliant man by the name of Professor Kirke, who often told fantastic stories of magic and mythical lands. Ivan could never determine the extent of the professor's belief in such tales, but the accounts of such epic and noble happenings continued to intrigue the doctor.

'_Who knew that at age forty-three I would still love fairy tales?' _he mused. _'He was my age, though, when I first met him at university, and he still believed. I suppose I'm not that strange, then."_

Dr. Karinsky grinned as he remembered the hours he would spend with Professor Kirke in the massive libraries of Oxford, listening awestruck for hours of distant worlds. _'All boys should strive to be knights in shining hour.'_

The train chugged onward and Dr. Ivan Karinsky pulled his small leather-bound journal with a gilded monogram on its cover from his nearby bag. He began to sketch highlights of the memories that fascinated him, drawing of ethereal dryads and naiads, hardworking talking animals, hard-working talking animals, stocky dwarves, towering giants, and majestically noble centaurs. The images were scattered among his psychologist's scribbled observations, often making appearances in the margins of the notes on his more boring patients. When he peered out of the curtained windows, he somewhat wished that these creatures could actually exist. They couldn't, of course, but they _would_ make life much more interesting.

* * *

PPPLLLEEEEEAAAASEEE REVIEW! I really do love you guys. 3...


	6. Author's Note

Hey everyone. I realize it's been forever since I uploaded anything to this story, and I really can't offer a reasonable excuse. I've lost all my drafts of my first chapters and I honestly never thought of a solution to the plot conflict I built. If anyone would like to edit my previous chapters and/or finish the story, just send me a message. I'd like a few different people to "apply" for the job, because I really did care about this story. Send me a message if you're interested. If I don't get any responses before the end of the summer, I'm going to quietly take this offline. Message me

Sincerely

allforthejust


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